


Fantastical Possession

by SantaBaby



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sherlock Can’t Help Himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:12:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SantaBaby/pseuds/SantaBaby
Summary: Of course all Sherlockians know how arrogant Sherlock can get after solving a case. We also know how flirty Sherlock can get. When these two come together, Sherlock’s brain is lost and his heart takes over.





	Fantastical Possession

Sherlock gave a lengthy explanation on how he discovered the maid wasn’t the murderer but the fiancée. John listened to him in awe, a smile plastered over his face. Sherlock was talking so fast he barley heard John’s quiet praises or chuckles. 

“Based on the orange cat hair, it was impossible for the maid to have been guilty for she didn’t, at any times during her working hours, come into contact with any cat, or animal for that matter.”

”Fantastic.” 

“And then you have the second point of interest.” 

“Brilliant.”

Arriving back at Baker Street, Sherlock was practically dripping arrogance. He pulled his scarf off, and turned to John. The silly smile still shined on John’s face.

“You’re brilliant,” he said.

Sherlock shrugged with fake modesty. “It was a bit obvious, wasn’t it?”

John shook his head. “Not to me. Then again, you solved it so quickly it didn’t have time to become obvious,” he said.

Sherlock understood this. His mind worked at such a quick pace that John was almost always left behind. But he didn’t want John feeling stupid. They were a couple after all. “You’ll get it next time,” Sherlock said. 

John grinned. His tongue flicked out and licked his lips, and Sherlock just couldn’t help himself.

Sherlock wasn’t sure if it was because of the grin John was giving him, John’s tongue, or if it was that he was still high on the case. Sherlock also really didn’t care. Whatever it was, it was there, and it was causing quite a twist in Sherlock’s trousers.

Sherlock pulled John to him and they met in a sloppy snog. Sherlock felt John’s tongue graze his teeth and his lower lip. He pulled John closer, pawing at his soft, blue cardigan.

John’s arms wrapped around Sherlock, running a hand through his curls. “You’re absolutely brilliant,” John said in between kisses. 

Sherlock kissed John, his brain beginning to shut down. “You’re charming,” he managed to gasp. 

John maneuvered his hands to Sherlock’s coat and began to tug it off. He rid Sherlock of his shirt and gripped his hips, still in the passionate kiss. 

“John, my trousers,” Sherlock said as John’s fingers drummed his hips. 

“Yes, yes,” John said. He tried to keep the kiss going but Sherlock was all too enthralled in the removal of his trousers. He kicked them off and shook his bum.

John chuckled and smiled at the man before him. He was gasping in his pants. John quickly threw his cardigan off and made work of his shirt. It unbuttoned, and John was almost shirtless before Sherlock grabbed his face. 

Again, the two men met in a more than eager kiss. John pulled Sherlock to him. Sherlock tripped over the clothes and pushed John down along with them. They landed on the floor of the lounge, Sherlock on top of John and John on the floor, still holding Sherlock close.

A moan escaped Sherlock’s lips as John kissed his neck. His bulge strained against his pants. He pulled away and stared down at John. His eyes were filled with a sexual desperation and desire. 

John smirked and shoved Sherlock down, pinning him to the ground. He assaulted Sherlock with hot kisses and quick bites. He ground his hips on Sherlock while nibbling on his ear. 

“John,” Sherlock moaned as John’s hands traveled down to his pants.

John’s eyes met met Sherlock’s rainbow ones. “May I?” he asked. Sherlock nodded and John pulled his pants from his body. Sherlock’s erect member screamed for attention. Without so much as a friendly greeting, John took Sherlock into his mouth, drawing out a long moan from the detective. 

Sherlock’s eyes fluttered at the sensation of John’s tongue encircling his cock as he sucked. He moaned and stared down at John. 

John swallowed, Sherlock’s last inches disappearing down his throat. “Mmm, Sherlock,” John moaned, vibrating the detective’s cock. John lapped at Sherlock’s throbbing, red tip.

Sherlock’s body shuddered and his feet stomped. He moaned and clamped his eyes shut. _Bastard, bastard, bastard_ , he thought. Maybe it was true. John was making sure to lick every inch of Sherlock. Sherlock enjoyed it-  _fucking loved it_ \- much as he hated to admit it. 

John dropped Sherlock’s erection from his mouth, tongue lolling out, tempting Sherlock. He smirked up at Sherlock with devilish eyes as he advanced. 

Sherlock stared up at the man above him. John’s broad hands were still pinning him to the ground, so he couldn’t move as John licked his neck, making him squirm. “John. Ah, no teasing,” he begged. 

John savored in the taste of Sherlock’s skin. “Now, who said I was teasing?” he growled. 

Sherlock thrashed around as John kissed his temple. “Prick,” Sherlock said. 

John arched an eyebrow. “Who, me? Now, I’m sure you don’t mean that. Especially since I’m the one with your hard cock in front of me,” he said. 

Sherlock whimpered as John kissed his forehead. “John, please,” he moaned. 

John’s bulge rolled over Sherlock’s cock, possibly an accident but more likely on purpose. John pressed his bulge against Sherlock, confirming that John was just being a prick on purpose. He rolled his hips over Sherlock again until the man was practically gasping for breaths in between moans.

”John, I- my- please...” Sherlock said unsuccessfully. His heavy breathing made it impossible for him to finish his sentence. 

John smirked. “You want my cock?” John growled.

“Yes,” Sherlock said. Ever since John had taken Sherlock’s virginity, he’d yearned for John’s thick cock. 

John followed Sherlock’s request.

Sherlock sucked in a breath as John straddled him. He shucked his trousers and tossed them behind him. Sherlock let out a soft moan as John’s member bulged in his pants. John’s open shirt revealed his muscles as he smirked down at Sherlock.

“Oi, John. When did you get so handsome?” he asked. 

John arched an eyebrow. He replied, “When did you get so aroused?” 

Sherlock blushed. John’s soft lips touched his again. Their hips ground together and Sherlock released a moan into John’s mouth. “Please, take me,” Sherlock said. 

John smirked. He took his time undressing, sure to torture Sherlock with each second that passed. He slowly rolled his pants down, watching the degrees of pleasure on Sherlock’s face grow.

As the tip of John’s cock was revealed, Sherlock whimpered. It had become the most desirable pink color. Precum was beading on the top, making Sherlock more desperate.

Sherlock moaned as John’s pants slipped off and his erection flicked out in front of his face, thick and reaching his navel with its glorious length.

Sherlock wanted to have John, have John right then and there but knew he should wait. John always liked it when he waited.

John slid downward so that Sherlock’s thighs were in front of him. He slowly massaged them and kissed Sherlock’s cheekbone, the left one first and then the right one. His cock pressed against Sherlock’s anus, not entering, just reminding Sherlock that it was there. “How did you know to wait?” John asked, voice just barely a whisper in Sherlock’s ear. 

“I know you like it that way,” Sherlock said, breathing heavily. 

John smirked, and pinched Sherlock’s thighs. He squirmed, eyes clenched shut and head thrown back.

“No, no, no. I don’t think I’ll let you get away that easily,” John growled. 

“John, this isn’t exactly what I- _mmph_!” Sherlock was cut off by John’s tongue. They kissed in a passionate embrace, erections both throbbing and pulsing, begging to be stroked or touched or _anything_. 

Sherlock’s tongue was abandoned by John’s as the doctor pulled away. Sherlock felt the man on top of him shift as he prepared to breach Sherlock’s entrance. John gripped his hips and Sherlock fought the urge to buck him off because of the roughness.  “That hurt, John,” Sherlock said. He could see a flicker of worry cross John’s face. “But I liked it,” Sherlock reassured him. John’s frighteningly arousing grin was back and any sign of doubt was now been overcome by pure lust. 

John’s cock aligned with Sherlock’s entrance. Sherlock inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five_. “ _Ah_!” Sherlock’s thoughts were interrupted as John entered him. 

John felt Sherlock’s nails rake down his back as he searched for something to grip onto.

“ _Ah, ah, John,_ ” Sherlock moaned, desperately wishing John would speed up. 

John inhaled, recomposing himself. The feel of Sherlock clawing at him while he slid into the detective made his mind swirl in his hot, dizzy state. 

Sherlock bucked, thighs clenching around John’s body. The man was going to fucking kill him. He moaned and buried his nails in John’s back. 

John groaned at the hot pain. “Ah, Sherlock,” he panted. 

Sherlock attempted at small thrusts, desperately trying to satisfy his prostate. John merely chuckled at his lover and continued to push until he was flush up against Sherlock, bare skin against bare skin. They were close as they could possibly get. It was too much, yet not enough all at once. 

Sheelock couldn’t think. He couldn’t breath. He could only moan, and pray that John would fuck him. “John, John, please,” he moaned. John locked eyes with him and Sherlock could see his golden honey eyes, dilated and desiring. Neither of them were going to last very long. 

Sherlock moaned as John thrust into him. Once, twice, a third time. Sherlock knew John was teasing him in the way his erection would jab at his prostate with one thrust, then barely graze it in the next thrust.  

John felt Sherlock’s prostate hit his erection, making his head swirl in pleasure. The way Sherlock moaned underneath him, the way it felt when Sherlock’s nails cut into him, the way his erection found Sherlock’s prostate, it was all perfect. 

John could feel Sherlock’s skin pimple as his orgasm neared. His own stomach was churning with his orgasm and it was a race to see who would last longer. John was going to make sure he won. 

John bit into Sherlock’s neck as he thrusted. He could make out the copper taste of blood as he licked his teeth. He thrusted again, teeth tightly clenching Sherlock’s skin again.

Sherlock came with a cry, his eyes clenched shut, back arching into John as his orgasm tore through him. He moaned and felt the world fade away as his mind stopped for a moment, trying to comprehend how bloody well John had fucked him. 

As the detective came down from his post orgasmic high, his nails trailed down John’s back for the final time. His thighs relaxed and lessened their grip around John’s waist.

Sherlock looked up at John with his glimmering, blue eyes, blood still fresh on his neck and fuck! He was gone too, groaning as his semen filled Sherlock. He pinched Sherlock’s thighs as his orgasm ripped through him. 

Slowly floating down from his orgasm, John pulled himself out of Sherlock and promptly picked him up before dumping him on the couch. He curled up next to him, arm wrapping around him protectively. He gave Sherlock’s neck a nip before growling into his ear. “Mine.” 


End file.
